


the massive continuity of ducks

by forpeaches (bluecarrot)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Modern Era, One Shot, Silly, very good and excellent information about ducks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 07:37:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20287825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluecarrot/pseuds/forpeaches
Summary: “How fleeting are all human passions compared with the massive continuity of ducks,” wrote Sayers, and nowhere does George Martin offer a convincing argument otherwise.(a tiny modern AU about two idiots in a park.)





	the massive continuity of ducks

**Author's Note:**

> written 24 July 2019.

The most attractive woman Jaime Lannister had ever seen was walking around the park holding a bag of frozen peas.

It was all he could do to keep from throwing himself at her feet. But what the hell was he supposed to say? _Hello, I am very rich, please fuck me?_ That didn’t work except on a slim subsection of women — Tyrion had very helpfully volunteered to test this out — and most of the women who were interested on that sort of basis were not ...

... were not ridiculously tall, muscular, superhero-looking women who could probably crush his head in their thighs.

Suddenly he felt the need to text his therapist. _You’ll never believe what happened today, _he’d tell her._ I got an erection and it had nothing to do with my sister._ Ms Stark would throw a party.

Perhaps the peas were to ice down men’s genitals. She had to cause a priapic reaction in half the populace.

But no one else seemed to be affected. And the way she held herself ... was not the stance of a woman who was often treated to physical intimacy.

How would she look after a long night — or better yet, a morning? Hair askew, eyes sleepy and content ...

“It doesn’t matter how long you keep staring at me. The view won’t improve.”

Oh, no. “No, I wasn’t.”

“I’m not an idiot. You were looking at me like you were —“ Unbelieveably, she blushed. “I’ve seen your kind.”

Jaime stood up. He shoved his hand in his pockets, affecting nonchalance. “I was wondering why you carry peas about. Are you hungry? I could get you some food.”

A strange look. “Thank you, no. They’re for the ducks.”

“Ducks?” He looked around and noticed that the park did, in fact, contain ducks. “I thought they ate bread.”

“Peas are better for them.” She stared at the birds.

Jaime stared at her. “Ah. I’m, ah,” and he held out his hand. “Lannister — I mean, Jaime. My name’s Jaime.”

She reached out her right hand to shake his — and realized her mistake, switching at once. “Brienne.”

“You’re quite tall, Brienne.”

“You’re missing a hand,” she snapped. “We all have flaws.”

He flinched. “It wasn’t a criticism.” He mentally composed a new text. _Dear Ms Stark, I met the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She taught me about ducks, brought up my hand, and tried to drown me in the river._

— or so he assumed she would do. “I think your height is lovely.”

She squinted at him. “Do you have a concussion? Do you need to see a doctor? Or have you simply never met a woman before?”

_I’ve never met _you_ before._ “Um. My brother, my brother Tyrion says that when I meet a new woman and I’m attr— when I meet a woman, I should immediately tell her that I am very wealthy.”

Brienne turned from pale pink to a deep red, presumably from rage. So Jaime did the only thing he was good at anymore: he talked.

“He said that would make up for some of my appalling character traits. He thinks I have a lot of those—”

“You really think I’d go to bed with you for money?”

“Who mentioned anything about sex? Although yes, if I give you enough money, you probably would, especially since women earn so much less ...”

She was blinking rapidly.

“... it’s actually quite a large number over the course of a lifetime, including raises and promotions, and the pink-washing and inflated cost of mass-produced items only makes it ... why are you looking at me like that? Oh god. Tyrion was right. I need a muzzle.”

“Lannister. You’re Jaime Lannister and your brother is named _Tyrion?”_

Shit. Had she slept with him? “Yes. Short fellow. Odd colored eyes. Odd sense of humor, too. Do you — have you met him?”

“Not precisely,” said Brienne. “But we have a certain level of intimacy. He signs all of my paychecks.”

“Oh,” said Jaime. “Oh. Well. Then you already know about the family. That cuts through a lot of awkward explanation.” He tried to smile. “Although my lawyer is going to tell me off for this.”

And he kissed her.

The peas fell, forgotten.

Jaime, somewhat breathless, said: “I’ll forgive the rude questions about my hand if you agree to have breakfast with me.”

“I haven’t said anything rude, yet. And what do you mean, _breakfast?_ It’s past noon.”

“I was hoping we could hang out in my hotel until then. Maybe get room service?”

“My goodness, you _are_ confident. Did you lose the hand recently?”

“I will tell you anything at all if you let me kiss you again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Jaime is _doing his best,_  
okay, it’s not his fault that he is socially useless


End file.
